Take Anything Else, Take Everything Else
by writeeofpassage
Summary: Tony discovers that Loki is carrying his child. Unfortunately, that is the least of his concerns. FrostIron.
1. surprise

**A/N: **I haven't written in awhile, so I'm a little rusty. If I suck, I am truly sorry. Lately I have been addicted to frostiron, so that's what you're getting.

_Take Anything Else, Take Everything Else_

_Chapter 1: Surprise!_

Tony takes a hesitant step forward, right hand slowly making its way towards Loki's belly. It comes to rest gently on the man's stomach, pressing protectively into the god's warmth. "You're really...?" He whispers, lips chapped and mouth dry.

Loki nods, his eyes are hollow, searching. "Yes." He answers. Voice clear and calm and daring for a confrontation.

Tony just nods. "And it's – you're sure it's...?" He mumbles, voice thick with disbelief wrapped in a blanket of poorly restrained wonder.

Loki's lips twitch then, not quite a smile, but it's the least threatening Tony has seen the god since he appeared in his lab, unannounced and uninvited. "Yes." He repeats. "The child is yours. _She_ is yours." He whispers, his voice growing deeper, protective.

"How is that..."

"Possible?" The trickster sighs. "I am a god Stark, even your feeble mind must be able to comprehend by now that I am not built as simply as you weak Midgardians."

The engineer cocks an eyebrow at that, refusing to remove his hand. "Weak, are we? Well, I remember things a little differently." Tony challenges playfully.

Loki allows a dark chuckle to flow gracefully from his mouth. "Yes, well..." He clears his throat roughly, "those were entirely differentcircumstances."

Tony nods, allowing his hand to fall numbly back to his side. His chest aches horribly at the loss of contact. He grimaces.

Loki's intense gaze falls on Tony's face, searching the lines of his skin, ripping it asunder and devouring his insides. Taking him apart and putting him back together, piece by agonizing piece. Unconsciously, Tony shudders.

"Would," Loki begins, closing his mouth just as rapidly as he opened it. Tony's brow furrows. He has never seen Loki hesitate like that. Tony watches as Loki clenches and unclenches his fists, wrapping them slightly against his stomach. "Would you like to...be a part of her life?" The green clad villain is staring Tony down now, eyes a storm of black and green, galaxies and lifetimes trapped within twin irises, like a genie in a bottle, infinity confined in a blip of time.

Tony can't stop staring at them, can't drag his eyes away. He doesn't even remember the question. All he can do is look into Loki's eyes. They should frighten him, they are _so damn old_, so broken, and yet all Tony can do is stare. Fascinated, utterly and completely.

"Yes." He says finally, the word tearing past the cage his lips form before he can think better of it. "I would like that very much." _Would he?_

Loki notices Tony's hesitation. He knows humans better than they give him credit for. Or, maybe he just knows Tony. He knows the way the man lies to everyone, even himself. He knows how terrified the man always is, except of the things he should be afraid of, except of him.

If Loki were honest with himself, he would admit that this was probably why he was so taken with Stark. The man was just not afraid of him, at least not openly. That was nice, a nice change of pace. To look at someone, look into their eyes, and see anything but fear. Hatred, certainly. Confusion, without a doubt. But fear – never. Stark held his own and for some strange, twisted reason, Loki was proud of him for that. Loki could understand, on some basic level, what Stark was after. Control. Control of himself.

"Okay," he nods, "then I shall visit again soon."

Before Tony can say another word, the god has vanished and he is left wondering if maybe he just had a _very_ vivid dream.

* * *

It's been _months _and Tony has heard _nothing _from the Norse god. Tony knows that he is a very impatient man and guess what, Loki isn't helping!

The man sits on a brown leather couch, a glass of scotch in one hand...a bottle in the other. He has told no one of his conversation with Loki, or what had, ahem, _proceeded_ that conversation.

The Avengers have fought a slew of evil super villains over the past weeks and, thankfully, none have been Loki. Tony would not have his daughter put in danger. At least Loki was doing something right. But, if mythology was to be believed, this wasn't Loki's first time being a...mother? It was no wonder the god knew to stay away from violence.

Tony forced himself to take a deep, calming breath. He had to trust Loki. A scary thought, he was aware, but necessary nonetheless. This was Loki's child as well, he would not endanger her.

Just as the thought crossed Tony's mind, there was a sudden, loud crash behind him, and the engineer stood up as quickly as his unbalanced legs will allow, running into the open kitchen and hurriedly placing his glass and bottle down.

On the floor, collapsed, is a pale, lean figure, wearing a thin black sweater and a pair of midnight black pants. They seem damp, and the vibrant, offensive red of blood is smeared against the chalk white of his skin. Tony knows then that blood is what has dampened the sweater, the sea of red hiding in the black fabric.

Loki's eyes are closed tightly, wincing in pain. It's then that Tony sees Loki's arms, they're clutching desperately at his large belly, nimble fingers curling protectively against himself.

Tony gasps then. Rushing forward, falling to his knees next to the fallen god. "Loki. Loki!" He growls, "You stay awake, okay? Stay awake for me. Stay away for her!" Words tumble from his mouth in a rush. Hurried. Violent. Frightened.

Loki's eyes flitter open for a brief second, entrancing Tony with the beauty and exquisite pain shimmering in their depths, before they fall closed once again leaving Tony alone, surrounded by silence.


	2. red

**A/N:** I would just like to thank you those of you who reviewed for taking the time to do so. I would also like to thank all of you who alerted or favourited this story – there were a great many of you. I hope that my writing is starting to improve. I am trying to get reacquainted with the art fairly quickly. Also, because this is my first Avengers fic I apologize when (not if) the characters are OOC. I'll be doing my best.

_Take Anything Else, Take Everything Else_

_Chapter 2: Red_

"Tony, you should really get some sleep."

Tony turns, sitting up straighter on his stool, head swivelling to look at Bruce. "Yeah, not happening."

"He's stable for now," Bruce gestures to the bed where Loki is laying, wires protruding from his arms and blood still smeared across his white, smooth skin. "There's nothing you can do. You'll be able to handle this better when you're rested, trust me."

"This," Tony gestures towards Loki''s prone, motionless body, "I – I don't even know what _this_ is. I'm not sure I _can_ handle it. "

And he really isn't. He doesn't do this. He doesn't even do relationships, let alone a maybe-relationship with a Norse god who seems to be fascinated with him and happens to be carrying his baby. It's just too much. Too much responsibility. Too much confusion.

Too many decisions.

"I am." Bruce replies softly, warm brown eyes drifting swiftly from Tony's face to rest on Loki, softening as he takes in the God's vulnerable state.

And Loki does look like shit, Tony thinks. His clothes are ripped and his hair is a matted mess. There are dark, worn bags under his eyes. His face wears an expression of absolute vulnerability and innocence.

Tony watches the scientist thoughtfully. "Bruce," he whispers, voice thicker than he thought it would be. He waits until the doctor drags his gaze back to him. "Thank-you, for, ya know – this. I just, I don't know what I would have done without you."

"It's no problem."

"And you're sure that the baby's okay?" Tony attempts to reassure himself. He can't help it. It's _his _baby. His and Loki's. And she's beautiful. He has to protect her because nobody else will.

"For now," Bruce nods, "The whole situation is a little precarious at the moment, but they're both stable." Bruce hesitates, unable to meet Tony's eyes as he slowly opens his mouth, "How does that work anyways? You and Loki?"

Tony snorts. He knew that question was coming; he should be surprised that Bruce was able to wait so long before asking. "The normal way, I guess." Tony responds.

Bruce smiles softly, deciding not to press it any further. "How long are you planning on keeping this a secret?"

"Loki? Or the baby?" Tony inquires, yawning softly.

"Both."

"I'm not really sure. I just want to make sure they're okay first. After that I'll figure something out."

He can't bear to think about that now: what to tell everyone - Clint, Fury. They're going to be pissed. Sleeping with the enemy. To be fair, Loki was hardly an enemy _that _night.

Bruce nods, knowingly. He always seems to know everything, Tony muses. The man is full of such understanding, such patience. It would be annoying if it weren't so endearing, and if Tony didn't respect Bruce so much.

"We'll worry about that later. Get some sleep, kay?" A small smile tug at Bruce's lips, it's meant to be reassuring, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

Tony nods blearily as he wonders what Bruce isn't telling him. "I will." He sighs as he stands, preparing to exit the medical bay and go upstairs, "And Bruce?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you look into his injuries for me? Figure out what caused them? I just want to get the fucker that did this?"

Bruce nodded again, more solemnly this time. "I'm on it. JARVIS is helping me run his injuries through the database as we speak, as well as testing the acidic compound we found on his skin."

The engineer nods in reply as he exits the room, rubbing his tired, worn face with his hand. Some people were really sick. They must have wanted something from Loki pretty badly. The question was what? Information? Revenge?

Tony is silent as he takes the elevator up to the main floor and exits, passing by the kitchen, floor still covered in blood, he pointedly ignores it and makes his way to his bedroom. He flops down bonelessly on the bed and closes his eyes. He's asleep within seconds.

* * *

His hands are covered in blood. Red, red blood. It drips slowly from his fingers, coats every inch of his skin. He attempts to wipe his hands clean, on his pants, on the ground, on anything, but they come back redder than before.

A sea of blood sloshes at his ankles, wrapping firmly around his body. He tries to move, to get the fuck away, but a pair of hands appear, rising up from the endless sea of blood, not a drop on them. They're pale. The skin glistens brightly in the dark. It's so dark. Tony can't see anything but the blood, and the hands, and black. Can't feel anything but the air struggling to make its way into his chest, the blood oozing from his skin, and the white hands that latch themselves desperately to his ankles, attempting to draw themselves out of the endless lake of viscous fluid.

"Tony!" A scream jars him awake.

The engineer gasps, sitting up wildly, covers strewn ungracefully against his shivering body. It's not cold, he's just – shaken? He shakes his head, trying to force the remnants of the unwanted dream out of his mind. He sighs.

"Tony!" It's a woman, screaming bloody murder.

Bloody.

He shakes his head again, feeling the ghost of frantic hands on his body, and gently eases himself out of bed.

"Pepper? Pep? That you?" He calls, voice raw in his throat. He could really use a drink of water.

He hears a person in the hall, rushing towards his room. They burst through his door without even knocking – rude.

"Tony!" Pepper gasps, throwing herself at the genius and toppling the unsteady man over until he is seated, once again, on the edge of his bed, cradling a hysterical Pepper in his uncertain arms.

"Oof! Pepper, what's wrong? You scared me half to death." Tony gasps slowly.

"I –_ I_ scared _you_!" She sounds incredulous, voice dripping with disbelief – and a hint of worry. It almost makes Tony smile. Not a lot of people worry about him. It's nice to know that he can always count on Pepper. "Tony are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, of course," He flashes one of his cheesy grins, it feels flat and fake on his face. Pepper doesn't comment. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"The blood, Tony!" His assistant practically screeches. "The whole kitchen floor is covered in blood. I was so worried something happened to you! You're sure you're okay?" She begins to run her hands along his body, over his face and down his arms, inspecting him for any injuries.

"Shit!" Tony curses. "The blood!" He shrugs of Pepper's examination. Standing gingerly. She stands alongside him, expression rapidly changing from concerned to suspicious.

"Wait – if you're fine then whose blood is that! Tony, what did you do?"

"Calm down," Tony blinks, smile gone. He's too tired and worried to deal with this. "I didn't do anything I'm just helping someone."

"Who?" Pepper cocks her head to one side, curious, doubtful.

"I think maybe it's best if I don't tell you – plausible deniability and all."

"Deniability?" She asks, worried. "What the hell is going on?"

"It's nothing to be concerned about, just, ya know," Tony rubs the back of his neck nervously, smiling innocently at Pepper, "Loki."

"Loki!" Pepper screams. "What was he doing here?"

"Is."

"Pardon?"

"What _is_ he doing here – not was." Tony corrects softly, under his breath. He's resigned himself to the fact that everyone will know soon enough. He'd like it to be all at once, like ripping off a band aid, but if someone had to find out first, he's glad it's Pepper. Well, after Bruce. But that's because he needed Bruce's help. And because Bruce has always been pretty neutral where Loki is concerned.

"You mean he's still here?" She sighs softly, curious eyes forcing his to look at her. "Why Tony? Please tell me what's going on?"

He looks at Pepper and forces himself to keep her gaze as he responds as quickly as he can, trying to get it over with as fast as possible, "Loki's pregnant with my child."

Pepper's jaw drops open, her face slackens, and the next thing Tony knows, she's falling forwards into his arms, unconscious.

_Things really have to stop ending this way_, he thinks, sighing as he lowers Pepper softly on his bed, waiting patiently (ish) for her to wake up.

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated, not expected. **


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